


Cup of Joe

by Eternallost



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, Boss/Employee Relationship, Coffee, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Older Man/Younger Woman, Public Sex, Sex, Smut, Twins, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 07:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternallost/pseuds/Eternallost
Summary: You work for Stan Pines in a summer job and learn exactly how he takes his coffee- and you.





	Cup of Joe

To the beat of a woodpecker on a nearby tree, Stan Pines looked you over.

“Sooo, do you have a job or not?” It wasn’t like customer service was your first choice in career, but you were between jobs and this seemed to be the only place hiring for miles. The advertisement read, _Good Salary?_ As if it were asking the perspective employees what they thought.

He gave a smirk, “Sorry toots, I’ve got my hands full with high schoolers. Got two of my own staying here this summer.”

As he was about to close the door, you stuck your boot in. “Not a high schooler. Not even in school. I just look young; common mistake.”

His eyebrow rose, “Is that right? You saying I’m one to make mistakes?”

“No, Sir. Not if you hire me.”

He gave a gruff laugh that made you shiver. “You’ve got moxy kid. I like that. All right. You start Friday.”

“Great!” You smiled. “Oh, is there a uniform, or dress code?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Just wondering if I should go buy a tank top and gold chain.”

He looked down at his outfit then back at you, “Hah. Hah. Get outta here kid, I’ll show you the real Mystery Man on Friday. You start at 6.”

As you turned towards your car in the gravel parking lot you couldn’t wait for the week to end.

* * *

You approached the shack as the light was just rising in the trees. It must have been true what they said, old people liked to get up at the crack of dawn. Not that you minded an older man. In fact, you found yourself developing a strange attraction for the way Stan talked. And the way he carried himself; those arms were pretty impressive too. _Oh man._ You rubbed a hand down your face to wake you up. _You came here for the job not the boss_.

The door opened before you could get your hand on the knob. “Yer early,” he grumbled.

“A bit,” you looked at your watch. “I thought that you would like that.”

“Trying to get in my good graces, eh?” He turned to put on his suit jacket. “Not like it’ll do you any favors.”

  
“Not looking for favors.”

“Too bad,” he smirked as he pulled an eye patch over his eye and placed a fez a top his head.

“Mystery Man, I presume?”

“The one and only,” He tipped his fez.

“I like it,” you took a seat at the small kitchen table. “Have to say I’ll miss the arms though.”

“Eh?” He turned from the coffee maker.

“Nothing,” you uttered, suddenly embarrassed. Was that too far?

“Checking out my arms?” He grinned.

“Maybe a little,” you stared into the coffee he brought you. “You’re in good shape.”

“Used to be a boxer,” he took the seat across from you. “Sugar?”

For a moment you thought he’d used the term for you, but then you saw the sugar bowl in his large hand. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

“I’ll take some cream,” you offered your cup as you noted the flush on his face. You reddened in response to the innuendo.

“Of course you will,” he recovered smoothly as he handed you the half and half.

* * *

In the following weeks you danced around one another with flirty quips, always arriving early to share a morning cup of joe. You both knew how the other took their coffee. When Stan was up before you, he’d open the door with your cup in his hand saying he’d made too much. But you knew the truth when exactly the right amount of sugar and cream were waiting. Today you’d arrived earlier than he had risen, and you wondered if you should use the store key to let yourself inside. You debated your choice as you bit your lip. He’d like it, wouldn’t he? Being woken up to a coffee just the way he liked it? Wouldn’t that put a smile on his face and help him start his day? You convinced yourself as you slid inside the dark store and a man with the same features, but a very different demeanor, stood near the vending machine.

“Stan?” Your heart sped up at the surprise.

“Ah, the new employee.” The man walked towards you. “With that Corduroy girl at college I wondered who he would choose.”

“Corduroy?” Your mind was running in circles, “Stan, is that you?”

“Technically, yes.” The man adjusted his glasses as he stuck out a six-fingered hand for you to shake. “My name is Stanford Pines. But, you may call me Ford.”

You looked from his hand to his face, “What?”

The light flicked on in the shop as Stan stood by the door in his sleepwear, arms crossed. “My brother.”

“Twins?” You looked between them.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever joke you got- save it. I heard ‘em all.” He walked forward in between the two of you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go get some coffee. I ain’t awake yet.”

“Er- Nice meeting you, Ford,” you shook his hand before heading into the kitchen. Stan walked ahead of you.

“Oh, and, _________,” Ford pulled you gently towards him as he whispered in your ear, “Stanley can be a bit possessive, don’t mind him.”

As you looked at Ford you both exchanged the grin of a shared secret. He was a good guy, you could tell.

“If you wait too long I’m gonna drink it all,” Stan hollered from the kitchen.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you mocked irritation as you smiled at Ford and walked towards your morning routine.

* * *

“Handsome, ain’t he?” Stan questioned as he poured your cup.

“If I say yes,” you paused, “am I complimenting you?”

“Har har,” Stan replied.

“Really, Stan,” you accepted your coffee, “for twins you couldn’t be more different.”

“Is that a good thing or…” he stalled.

“Let’s just say that I have a type and Ford, no matter how great he may be, is not it.”

“And,” Stan stirred the milk into his cup, “What is your type, Sugar?”

“No thanks,” you replied as you realized this time it was for you. Your face grew hot. “Wait, Sugar?” You gave a sweet laugh, “Me?”

You could see him flush and backpedal, “ _Of course not!_ I was talkin’ about the coffee.”

“That’s too bad.” You smiled as he handed you the bowl.

* * *

You’d arrived too early again a week later. You looked at the store key in your hand, and back at the door. Maybe this time you could make him his coffee just the way he liked it. Maybe he’d pat you on the head and say you did a good job. The thought put a smile on your face as you walked in to the quiet morning of the shack. You placed in a new filter, some water, along with a few scoops of ground coffee (enough for Ford as well) and waited for it to brew. When it was finished you sat with the cup in your hand, but the Mystery Man didn’t come down the stairs. I’ll just have to bring it to him, you thought gleefully as you grasped the mug and headed towards his room.

As you stood in the doorway, you realized the old man was still out. The covers rose and fell with his breath. You quietly walked forward, placing his mug on the bedside table. “Stan,” you shook his shoulder, “Stan…”

“Five more minutes,” he murmured, grasping you around the wrist with his strong hand and pulling you into an embrace as he wrapped his leg around your supine body on the bed. You felt something warm and hard pressing against your hip.

“S-Stan!” You squealed in embarrassment.

“Huh? Wha?” He rummaged around for the bat near his bed.

“_________?” He blinked as he put on his glasses, the bat gripped in the other hand. He scrambled back into the headboard. “_________! What are you doing here?!”

“I just,” you blinked, “I just wanted to bring you some coffee.”

“…In bed?” he squinted.

“I-“ you swallowed, “yeah. You’re right. It was a stupid idea.” You shook your head. “Sorry.”

“_________!” He called as he hurriedly tried to put on pants. But it was too late. You’d already embarrassed yourself enough for one day.

* * *

As you came down you attempted to busy yourself with a task. You looked at the coffee maker and at the dark store room. As you switched on the lights and looked at the vending machine, you decided to bring Ford his drink. Maybe he could give you some advice on not making a fool of yourself. “Ford,” you knocked on the machine door, hitting the hash-tag which you learned was something of a doorbell.

He came swiftly up the stairs in response. “___________?” He questioned when he looked at your face, “Is everything all right?”

You shook your head with a frown, unable to express what an idiot you’d been.

“It’s going to be okay,” he rubbed your arm and for a second you wished you could fall for a guy like Ford. “Come on. Let’s grab some breakfast.”

You chatted with Ford over a toaster waffle and coffee at the breakfast table. Minutes later, a fully dressed Stan peered into the room, skipping coffee and heading for the store front. You hung your head. You’d really messed up, crossing that line with your boss.

“___________,” Ford’s voice was low. “Don’t take it that way. Give it a while, I’m sure Stanley’s intentions will become clear.”

“I hope he intends to keep me employed,” you sighed as you exited the table. “Thanks, Ford. For everything.”

“No problem, ___________,” Ford smiled. “Be yourself. Statistically, it should work itself out.”

You blinked back a smile. “I’ll try.”

* * *

“You best buds with my brother now?” Stan asked you at lunch in the break room after a morning of ignoring your existence.

“What?” Your voice was quiet at the unexpected interaction.

“You were both chatting it up over breakfast.”

“So?” You dropped your sandwich.

“You got a thing for him?”

“No way!” You stood up to meet him.

“Why? He’s not good enough for you, _Miss Priss_?”

“ _Not at all!_ Ford’s got a lot of qualities that any woman would be lucky to have.”

Stan came closer, “You want to suck his dick, don’t you?”

You turned your head. “Don’t be crude, Stan.”

“Oh, you don’t know how crude I can be, doll face.” He put a hand up on the wall beside you. “Or is it you want to suck _my_ dick? I’m sure it’ll be just as good. Better even.”

“Stan!” You gasped with a blush as you looked at his heated expression.

“You want me to show you how good it could be?”

Your brow furrowed, “Stan. You’re an idiot. You're the only one I’ve wanted. For a long time.”

“What?” He pulled back. “_________, I-“

“You getting scared now, old man?” You advanced on him. “ _You thought this was a game?_ ”

“I don’t-“ he held up his hands; whether in defense or resignation you didn’t know.

“No,” you pressed him against the counter with one hand on either side of his waist. “You’ve been flirting with me for over a month now. And you thought that I wouldn’t be interested in you?”

“I don’t…” he looked down, flustered.

“Stan, look at me.”

He cautiously looked up.

“I wanted to touch you so badly when you pressed up against me this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You did? But, you ran away...”

“I was embarrassed because I didn’t think you felt the same!”

“__________,” he breathed out, “the reason I didn’t want to hire you wasn’t because you looked young, it was because I wanted to fuck yer brains out on my doorstep.”

“And why didn’t you?” You smiled as you examined his brightening expression.

He grasped your face in both hands, “I’m gonna fix that now,” he said, bringing your lips to his in an animalistic kiss.

“Stan,” you moaned as you leaned into him.

“I’m gonna make it so good for you baby, so good…”

“Please,” you groaned as his rough hand pushed aside your bra, circled your nipple, pinching it taught and playing with it under your shirt.

“Please what?” He licked your lip, “Tell your daddy what he needs to do.”

“Touch me, down there,” you gasped, “oh please!”

He laughed into your lip, “I’ll do much more than that, sweetheart.” He brought his finger to your opening and you tilted your head back as his thumb circled your clit.

“Yesss,” you breathed as his repetitions increased in intensity.

“So wet, aren’t you, doll? The way you’re coating my fingers makes me want to feel myself inside of you.”

“Do it,” you exhaled, “I want you to.”

He pulled himself for a few strokes, “You want this? Sure you can handle it?”

You were impressed by what you saw, “Yes, Stanley, give it to me.”

He kissed you as he lifted you up onto the lunch counter, pressing inside of you after a moment.

“Augh!” You groaned as you felt filled to your hilt.

“Sorry, toots,” he responded shyly as he kissed from your collar bone to your chin, “I couldn’t hold back. It’s been so long, but it's a bit much. We can stop if you want.”

“No,” you breathed, “It feels good Stan, so good, keep going.”

“Yes m'am,” he kissed you as he continued to thrust inside of you, his two calloused fingers finding your sensitive clit. After a time you became accustomed to his girth, craved it.

“Mm,” you moaned, tilting your head back as you pressed your hips forward into him. His lips, moved from your neck down to your nipple, sucking and biting lightly. He exchanged from one breast to the other in a steady rhythm.

“Stan!” your hips moved of their own volition.

“Give it to me, sugar,” He spoke as he licked your nipple, rubbing your clit as he pounded into you.

“Mmm!” You exploded, lights behind your eyes as you grasped for purchase on the counter. As you came down from your high, Stan renewed his efforts, bringing you towards a second peak as your legs curled around his hips. Your breathing grew shallow as he looked into your eyes, not halting his hips as his fingers kept up on your clit. “You’re gonna come for me a second time, doll,” he smiled, “and you’re gonna come with my name on your lips, aren’t you?”

You swallowed before panting, “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he smiled his approval as he kept up inside of you. “Tell me when you’re ready, cuz I’m about to spend myself in this tight pussy of yers.”

The thought had you contracting, “Stan, please, oh yes, Stan! Stan!” You moaned as his body became stiff, rigidly pumping in and out of you.

“That’s my girl,” he breathed, “that’s my ___________.”

You both moaned at the same time as he pulled out, jerking himself to completion on the nearby counter.

You breathed as you came down from your high, savoring the view of your boss stroking himself, his face a look of utter satisfaction- a calmness and vulnerability you’d never seen. You’d wanted this for so long. You licked your dry lips and smiled.

He slumped, both elbows and his back leaning against the counter.

“Does this mean I’m fired?” Your voice came out scratchy.

“Are you kidding me?” He gave you a lopsided smile, “It means you’re in business seven days a week. You up for it, beautiful?”

You grinned, “I am if you are, old man.”

He laughed, “Let’s see if you and this _old man_ can keep up.”


End file.
